From Yesterday (16 page)

We are in my bedroom now, but Brady doesn't yet set me down. Instead, he tears his mouth from mine and places some quick kisses at the base of my neck, right at the clavicle. I almost lose myself; my hands come away from the grip I had around his upper body and I'm lucky he has a tight hold on me or else I would have fallen.

This seems ot be his cue to lower me down to the bed. Once I'm out of his grip, he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. I want his jeans off of him as well, so I unbutton and unzip them before sliding them down his legs. His boxer briefs are still on, but with his obviously erect cock right at eye level for me, I waste no time in pulling the briefs down a bit and taking him out. My hand circles him at the base and I lean forward to take just a tony taste. His cock jumps. I love that.

Feeling encouraged, this time I take more than a little taste as my mouth encircles the head of his cock and I flick my tongue against the underside, at the seam. Brady immediately pulls my hands from him and pushes me back down on the bed.

"Uh uh, Paige.Do you know how badly I want you? You do that again and I'll completely embarrass myself. Let's get those panties off of you first."

Because I'm laying back, Brady hooks a finger into either side of my boy shorts and slowly starts pulling them off. I am watching and I notice a small damp spot in the fabric at the center. Brady notices as well and touches a finger to my core, feeling for the source of that moisture. "You are so fucking wet. It's incredible."

And then his head is between my legs and I feel him kiss me right above my clit. I squirm. When his tongue is moving against me, I nearly start to convulse.

I'm getting so damn close that I need to stop him now before I lose myself. "Wait, Brady."

He looks up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just don't want to come without your cock inside of me. Please?"

"Like you even have to ask."

It takes him no time to grab a condom from his discarded jeans and roll it on. He settles himself on the bed just over me, placing an arm on either side of me and framing my face with his hands. He begins with a gentle kiss, and soon I feel the tip of his cock teasing me; it drives me crazy and I try raising my hips off of the bed to meet him. Finally, finally, he leans back to a kneeling position, grasps himself with one hand and pulls me more open with the other. He pushes forward and then he's inside me. He keeps his strokes slow at first; long, torturous in and out movements, and then he thrusts into me hard. I make some unintelligible sounds and open my legs wider. Brady grabsone leg and puts it over his shoulder so that he can get deeper inside of me.

I'm so close, yet not right there and after a while longer, his breathing starts to get ragged so I know I don't have much time.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold back, Paige, but I am not coming until you do."

He flips us over so that I'm on top, as he leans against the headboard. I move my hips so that I can feel not just his cock on the inside, but I grind my clit up against his pubic bone and create extra friction. It's almost enough and then Brady dips his hand in between us and we both watch as two of his fingers find my clit and rub.

That does it. I'm orgasming for what seems like an eternity, my moans so loud I drown my thoughts right out. Not that I can think in this moment.

"Fuck."

There's something so sexy about that desperate cursing when a man starts to come. Perhaps it is the only time those words are appropriate. I ride out the last of my muscle spasms as Brady violently bucks beneath me.

Exhausted, I lay back away from him with even as his cock still twitches inside me. Only the sounds of heavy breathing can be heard now.

When we're both recovered enough, Brady get up, repositions me so that my head is on the pillows and goes to dispose of the condom.

I'm half asleep when he comes back from using the bathroom, washing his hands, and brushing his teeth, but I get up anyway so that I can do the same. Not nearly as comfortable as he is, I shut the door while I pee. I wash my hands and brush my teeth, too. When I get back to my bed I hear the heavy breathing of someone who is obviously asleep and I have to really work hard to get myself under ym blanket because Brady is passed out on top of the covers. I shove him in the side gently, sort of, and he wakes up just enough to pull the blanket over both of us, turn me towards him, and the he's asleep again with his hands cupping my ass.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I wake up in the middle of the night dying of thirst, so I get up and wander into the kitchen for some water. I don't bother with my robe this time. I set the ice maker to crushed and fill my glass with little shards of ice and lots of water. After I drink the entire glass, I lean against the counter and start chewing the crushed ice. I've always loved doing that. I just kind of drift around in my head for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of being just fucked and sore.

Brady comes strolling into the kitchen at some point later, though I'm not sure how much later, looking sleepy and disoriented. Not so much that he doesn't notice me focusing my gaze on his cock which, while not currently erect, is still a nice thing to look at as it hits heavily against his thigh with every step.

He smirks at me. "I like a woman who will check me out and not be shy about it."

"I don't feel like I should be bashful about wanting to look at you naked. You do naked well."

Brady raises an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? You should see how well
you
do naked. No comparison."

I chew on some more ice. "It's not like I'm going to argue with you."

He laughs. "Isn't chewing on ice cubes supposed to indicate a sign of sexual frustration?"

"Well, I just had sex and I had a fucking great orgasm so I'm going to have to go ahead and say that, no, chewing ice is not frustration. More than likely, it is probably closer to a sign that I have an oral fixation."

There. Let him mull that one over in his head for a while. And he does because the sleep starts to clear from his head and I notice his cock start to thicken.

"For such a beautiful girl, Paige, you're actually sort of evil, you know?"

I smile one of those secret smiles that makes people think you're up to something.

Brady holds his arms open. "Come here. I want to show you something."

I make my way around the counter slowly; doing my best to draw it out and make him wait. When I finally get within Brady's reach, he hoists me up off of the ground and throws me over his shoulder with my ass in the air.

I yelp from surprise.

Brady smacks my butt lightly. "Now this view I definitely love."

In retaliation, I slap one side of his ass a lot harder than he did to me.

"Now you're in for it, Paige."

He practically runs with me back into my bedroom, but he has to stop in the doorway because it is pitch black in here and neither of us can see a thing.

"Swing around," I tell him. "I should be able to find the light switch."

I do locate the switch and the room is bathed in light too harsh for either of us since the only light we'd used in the kitchen was whatever city lights filtered in through the sliding glass doors.

When I can finally open my eyes more than just a slit, I see the wrong color on the floor. The carpet in my bedroom is beige.

"Son of a bitch."

Brady notices the big red splotches at the same time that I do. It is red all over the far side of my room; most of it concentrated in front of the glass doors that lead to the smaller balcony. It looks like someone bled to death over there, as I'm sure it was intended to. I can tell it isn't actually blood, though. I didn't notice at first, though now I recall something smelling off when I got up for the water, but the room smells strongly of paint.

"Brady."

I clutch at my chest; I think this is probably the worst thing the psycho has done.

Because the only time that the red paint could have been poured out like that was when Brady and I were asleep in my bed.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Brady starts moving round the room, gathering up whatever clothing of his he can find.

"Throw something on, Paige. We're spending the rest of the night at my place."

In my closet, the first thing I see is a black and white striped racer back dress that comes to my ankles. I throw it on, not caring that it is way too formal just to go down three flights of stairs. Black flip flop sandals and I'm all set.

Brady comes back into my bedroom with my gun. "Did you know you left this out on your desk?"

"I guess I got too caught up in-- well, us. I completely forgot. I haven't left the apartment since, though."

Brady scrubs his hand over his face in frustration. "That's not the point, Paige. Obviously being inside your apartment isn't helping. Whoever this is has access to your place. They could have taken your gun, again, and shot you."

I cringe. Brady thinks it's because he's scared me with the all the possibilities he lays out, but actually I'm never comfortable with the idea of shooting someone. That gun is only ever to be used in an extreme life or death situation.

"Yes, Paige. Now you see. These safety measures have to be taken seriously. And you need to get those locks changed. Promise me you'll do that as soon as we wake up?"

"I promise."

"Thank you." He gestures to the gun in his hand. "We'll take this with us. If there's anything you need for the morning, grab it quickly. I want to get you out of here."

I get some toiletries out of my bathroom and toss them into my purse. When I finish, Brady gives me my gun to put in my bag. I have a special holster that's stitched into this bag. Glocks don't have traditional safeties; the trigger is the safety so it has to be stored properly to avoid an accidental discharge. Purses with holsters are the most common way for a woman to carry a concealed weapon because we tend to wear clothing that is form fitting and there is no place on the body to hide a gun.

I make sure to lock my apartment when we leave. The ride in the elevator is quick and then we're in Brady's place and I feel better instantly.

Brady leads me through the hallway to his bedroom with his hand on the small of my back and I'm not sure who's more comforted by that. We are both pretty freaked out. He doesn't say it, but I can tell by how upset he was with me about the gun and how uncharacteristically quiet he is being now. In fact, he says nothing until we enter his bedroom and I stop walking and stare at him.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," he says when I cross my arms over my chest, challenging him.

I drop my arms to my sides. "No, but I know you just did it because I'm careless sometimes."

Brady looks up and his face scrunches up in confusion. "It just doesn't make sense, though, if you think about it."

"What do you mean? What doesn't make sense?"

He looks back at me, but I feel like he's looking through me as his thought process works his mind out. "The things that happen. It's like this person just wants you to know that they've been there, but nothing else really happens. Sure, there have been some threatening advances, and the things being done are creepy, but it never escalates. Don't these stalker types try to physically harm their prey? What kind of game are they playing?"

I sit down on his bed and my hands fidget in my lap. "I don't know. I've thought about this, too. Maybe that's why I've been less diligent than I should have been. It's like, the only thing they've been trying to accomplish is to remind me of that night. To make me feel guilty. Maybe even to keep me from getting over everything that happened with my sister and her death."

Too late, I realize I've said more than I should.

"What do you mean about 'what happened that night'?"

I shift on the bed to look in his direction. "It's nothing. It is all in the past, I'm just rambling. Are you coming to bed? I'm tired."

"Well, I would, but there's a rule I have about that bed."

I relax as his normal flirtations seem to be coming back. "Oh? And what is this rule?"

Brady takes his shirt off. "No clothing allowed. If you want to sleep in my bed, you'll do so completely nude."

I grin as he continues undressing. "So I guess I'll sleep on the couch then."

I stand up and pretend to walk towards the hallway, but I don't make it two steps before a hand snakes around my waist and pulls me back. "Not a chance, Paige. Way to think of a loophole, though. Well played."

I turn to face him and in one swift move, I pull my dress over my head and drop it at his feet. He traces my lips with his right index finger., then trails it down my chin to my chest and stops just above my breasts. "We really should get some sleep," he says.

"Yes," I agree. "There is plenty of time for this tomorrow. After class."

Brady groans as he finishes stripping. "You're still going to class? We've had less than two hours of sleep and it is four thirty in the morning. At best, we'll get two more hours of sleep. I think we might be entitled to skip this class on account of extenuating circumstances."

I slip into the bed and get under the comforter. "When did you become pre-law? Good argument, but you are welcome to do what you wish. I just don't want to miss class unless I'm really sick or something. Reyes takes attendance, remember?"

He gets in bed behind me and pulls me to his chest. "You're right. I'll go. I guess I'm just a little cranky when sleep-deprived. Plus, I used up a lot of energy earlier."

I laugh. "I'd say we both did. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Think of this as a two hour power nap."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Because Brady only had one class to my two, I have to convince him to let me find my own way back to his apartment when school is done for the day. He tried to insist on coming to my second class with me, but I flat out refused. The only thing that he agreed to was me taking my car instead of walking.

I knock on Brady's door with my overnight bag in hand. He's going to be mad that I went up to my place alone, but after having to wear the striped maxi dress to class today, I wanted a choice of clothing with me. The dress is fairly see through, which Brady so kindly pointed out.